Monday, October 17, 2005

...50 emails in my "Spam box", and 1 in my "Inbox". However, that one message was from a Lucius P. Delinquent, telling me about how I can buy "meds" for cheap. Presuming he meant "MEds", and not having any need for a Masters in Education (cheap or otherwise), I sent him Spamward as well.

Please, somebody, send me a non-spam email!

Masters in Education... Actually that's a (borderline) interesting point. I've noticed that a lot of writers are also teachers. Or a lot of teachers become writers, or vice versa, or whatever the hell. And it's usually English or Creative Writing that they teach (how many novelists are also Geography teachers? One? Two, tops?) I don't understand this. If you spend so much time holed up in a quiet corner, slaving over words on the page, the last thing you want to do is go in front of a bunch of brats and try to convince them how great words on the page are, when they'd rather be out taking drugs, stealing, or trying to have sex. Maybe I'm wrong. To be honest, even before the idea that I could write novels crystallised in my mind, I knew I could never be a teacher. I'd end up knocking some poor misunderstood thugs' teeth out and going to jail. And have you seen the way some of those 16-year-old girls dress? That is TROUBLE, and I'm staying away.

Mind you, I wasn't really keen on school when I was there. To be honest I was known as a "disruptive influence", and tolerated rather than nurtured, which is what the teachers should have been doing. They were all bastards anyway, and were more interested in busting me for minor crimes than educating me. If they only knew that I was MISUNDERSTOOD.

Steve - not getting laid may work in your favour. AJ Liebling said: "In the growth of any artist, an essential element is a correct dosage of calamity. If the adversity is too adverse, he has to seek work at some useful trade; if it is not adverse enough, he gets a swelled head."